Let's Make A Sandwich!
by MyLittleTwatface
Summary: Lady GaGa and Honey B take a break from mass murder for a motel-stop. Telephone continuation. Delicious lesbians. Read and review in exchange for love.


Let's Make A Sandwich!

Lady GaGa's footsteps echoed on the hard stone outside of the Prison for Bitches, making Honey Bee's heart flip with every harsh click. The gates slammed and the car door opened. One slender, smooth leg, pearlescent even as it was enveloped in shadows, entered the Pussy Wagon, followed by another. Then that face she had missed for so long appeared, those big, brown eyes staring at her under dark lashes.

"You've been a very, very bad, bad girl, GaGa," Honey Bee breathed.

"Mmhmm, Honey B."

Honey Bee watched as GaGa took a huge bite of her honey bun, leaving lipstick on it in the shape of that perfect, heart-shaped mouth of hers. It had been a while since they had last seen each other. A few weeks before they had gotten rid of that awful boyfriend of GaGa's. That night made Honey Bee sure what they did was worth it. It had been a shame GaGa was caught.

Now they were together at last.

"Missed you, Honey Bee," GaGa sighed, as they pulled into a motel parking lot.

GaGa liked the sleaze of it all, the fact she had run away with this beautiful girl to such a clichéd place. Sleaze could be sexy.

Both women strode into reception, greeted with confused looks from the spotty teen on the counter, and picked up their keys.

Room 167, a cute little affair with blue cinderblock walls, light, floaty curtains and a large bed. The bed sheets were not to GaGa's liking, all red and white and swirls, like a candy cane crime scene; and those bedside lamps made her feel ill.

However, she had her Honey Bee.

GaGa placed her hat over one lamp. She slid her dress down over her white hips and down to the floor. She folded it on top of her hat and stood, naked, at the foot of the bed.

Honey Bee let a coy smile play across her full, dark lips.

Within a heartbeat, they were intertwined, tongues dancing on thick, wet lips, mouths devouring.

GaGa pulled Honey Bee's dress over her dusky shoulders, over her chest, and past her famous ass. However, it was Honey Bee's thighs that entranced GaGa, the way they moved and how it felt to kiss them. GaGa got to her knees, the rough carpet scraping her, and left a perfect, red imprint of her lips on those thighs.

Honey Bee felt herself squirm, felt her nipples go hard and her panties getting wet.

Looking at what she could do to her lover with nothing more than a kiss, GaGa glowed with pride. She pushed Honey Bee lightly onto the bed and pulled her panties down, exposing the beautiful, wet, blush pussy that had been on her mind since she last saw her.

With her slight, pink tongue, GaGa lapped Honey Bee's wetness up gratefully, garnering soft moans. She licked slowly up and down, tasting that indescribable taste, savouring every lick. She sucked gently on Honey Bee, inducing louder moans. GaGa traced small hearts on Honey Bee's swollen clit as she grabbed her hair roughly. As GaGa sucked and licked harder and faster, her eyes stayed focused on Honey Bee's, which were shining so brightly. Her cheeks had a slight pinkness to them. It was beautiful.

As GaGa picked up speed, Honey Bee took one hand from GaGa's xanthous hair and used two fingers to pull and twist one amaranth nipple. GaGa let out a soft scream, which was muffled between Honey Bee's cocoa thighs, she could feel her lover clench and buck under her, as her back arched. As Honey Bee's breathing became more rapid, her twists and tugs on GaGa's hair and nipples were growing ever more forceful, gaining screams of pleasure and pain from GaGa's full, red lips, as her tongue caressed Honey Bee's clit rapidly. Honey Bee threw her head back in one final thrust of ecstasy, clenching her thighs tightly around GaGa's head and dragging her perfect manicure down her niveous skin, leaving harsh red lines. She let out one, long, melodious cry of pleasure, and went limp.

The two women strode back into reception and dropped their key on the spotty teen's lap. They held hands to their yellow Chevrolet. Never had the young boy been so glad of paper-thin walls.


End file.
